English Library VOL. He became angry. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. Guns were impossible. Yesterday this glorious creature had loved him; to-day she was only friendly. I require nothing, you see, till my share of the contract is fulfilled. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. ‘I know that, miss.
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